


What a Life, My Life

by Anonymous



Category: Marvel's Avengers (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Hugs, Missing Scene, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29272377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Kamala can't believe this is her life now - even after she messed up??
Relationships: Kamala Khan & Natasha Romanov, Kamala Khan & Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Anonymous





	What a Life, My Life

**Author's Note:**

> (Missing Scene set after the Reassemble "To Stand Alone"-Campaign Mission)

Black Widow’s kind words ring in Kamala’s ears and she does chance a last look at Bruce before she runs off towards the Helicarrier. Her chest is thigh, her mind jumping anxiously between _THIS IS AWESOME_ and _I should go home. I don’t belong here._

She messed up.

And while both Natasha and Bruce had been very kind just now, Kamala has a heart time believing it. Days ago she sat in her small New Jersey room, typing in forums, hiding her powers at school, staring at the posters on her wall, waiting for Ammi to call her to the dinner table every night. She misses it - misses her family, the safety and familiarity of home.

Too much has happened though. 

Too much dangerous stuff has happened.

And, _OH MY GOD_ Black Widow is tiny_dancer!! How _awesome_ is that???

She’d been chatting with an Avenger the whole time — even before she got nearly smashed by the Hulk over Cap’s shield… and _OH MY GOD_ this is so much like something she would cook up for fic! It’s the stuff she daydreamed about for years before A-Day.

Kamala Khan on the Helicarrier! 

Self-insert for the win.

Or not?

She slowed her steps when she arrived at the hangar doors. SHIELD agents and Inhumans are lining up.

There’s a cute boy in the ghastly orange staring at her.

She blinks, uncomfortable. He may recognize her from her short stay at AIM prison — or wonder at her ridiculous costume — or...

She’s not sure she can take talking to anyone right now. That talk with _Black Widow_ and Bruce… is as much talking as she can think she can do before she sorted through the mess of guilt, self-doubt, anxiety and nerves. 

_Black Widow gave me a pep talk_ , she thinks and there’s _excitement_ bubbling up with that thought too.

She still decides to run on — away from the hangar hatch where all the unfamiliar people are gathering, ready to be rescued, ready to evacuate. 

She runs past and alongside the side of the Helicarrier until she feels nobody is watching her anymore, then she lets her arm grow without as much as thinking about it and -- whoosh and thump — she’s up on top of the huge aircraft and running towards one of the upper hatches. Luckily she spent the first few hours of her stay on the Chimera running through hatches, exploring empty corridors and searching through dusty boxes to find the things she needed to make her room livable. 

It’s easy to just run without thinking much about where she’s going.

She just needs a moment.

Her room is down the main quarters hallways. She can just run through the command center and… 

She rounds the corner, navigating awkwardly between people in SHIELD uniforms, nearly slips on the stairs downwards and past the war table…

“Kamala!”

She has no time to look up, or duck or run. (Shouldn’t an Avenger be faster? More alert? _Better_?)

Her nose crashes tip first into hard metal under a garish gray t-shirt.

“Hmph!” she complains and tries to push back, embarrassed and _not ready for any kind of talking_.

But to her surprise, arms are around her, not letting her go — then it takes her another split second to realize… _TONY STARK IS HUGGING ME._

“Man, kid, you scared the living daylights out of me.”

“Sorry,” she muffles against his chest, and her eyes are a little wet — purely out of excitement and because it’s all so much. And this is so different from Bruce. She thought Bruce was the one she’d grown close with and — _GOD, THIS IS IRON MAN HUGGING ME!!_

He smells of fresh cologne and soap.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Tony said. “Next time when you decide you and Bruce find yourself in a resistance stronghold and you want to ditch him to do something stupidly heroic…”

Here it comes. _Do better! Make the right choice!_

“Tell Jarvis to give me a call, okay? Or at least make sure Jarvis is aware of what crazy thing you're doing. I sure as hell am _bad_ at clueing people in when I do stupid things....”

“Ain’t that the truth?” a no-nonsense female voice says behind Tony and Kamala can’t see how her cheek is pressed uncomfortably against the arc reactor, but she knows it’s Black Widow. 

“Natasha, always a sight for sore eyes.”

“Too much desert sand gathering in yours?”

“Funny.” 

Tony hasn’t let go of Kamala’s shoulders, and Kamala hasn’t tried to break free either. Maybe she’s leaning into the hug a little. (It reminds her of home, family, being a kid in a loving family.)

“Point being,” Tony continues to speak over her head, “we all do stupid things. Part of the hero gig. Let someone know so Widow can’t message me to call me an idiot, okay? Always better when the cavalry knows where they need to go. Don’t be too much like me.”

“Yeah, his self-preservation instincts are failing him more often than not.”

“Yeah, granted, my priorities get skewed sometimes. Thank you for rubbing it in.”

“Okay,” Kamala says and there’s a knot in her throat. “I’m sorry. I swear I’ll make the right choice next time.”

“Darling,” Natasha says, “there’s not always a correct choice to make. Just -” she halts and looks at Tony, holds his gaze and continues - “listen to Tony and next time tell someone what you’re doing. The guys are not good about keeping track about anyone but themselves.”

“Ouch,” Tony says but nods above her and then finally pulls away to pat her on the shoulder, squeezes it for a moment. “Get some rest, Kamala. Next mission will come up sooner than is good for us and we need you at your polymorphiest and brightest then, okay?”

She nods. Her throat’s still so tight that she doesn’t trust herself to speak. Too much emotion for just one day and she’s exhausted and teary — and she doesn’t want to be the teary eyed kid again. So she tries to smile, doesn’t entirely fail because she’s relieved and overwhelmed and grateful as well as scared and barely coping and inadequate. So she nods and runs towards the automatic doors to the corridor behind the command center — nearly crashes into a SHIELD agent with a machine gun.. Like _WHOA, this place is filling up._

Resistance.

There it is — from Anthill to Chimera. 

“She’s a good kid,” she hears Tony say behind her and nearly blushes, even as she whispers: “Sorry,” and continues running.

“Smart and tough,” Black Widow says. 

“Carol would love her.”

“Aww, Tony, _you_ already like her.”

“Sure, and I’m not the only one around here. Remind me to upgrade her costume to electrify anyone who tries to kidnap her” The door slides shut, Kamala only hears her own steps resounding loudly on the metal doors, a blush forming on her cheeks.

She reaches her room's door and it slides open for her after she presses her palm to the glass panel in the wall. She hops onto the bed with the bright red Avenger’s blanket she’d found somewhere between dusty boxes and stares out the window — Inhumans are still coming on board, SHIELD personnel in functional, unlabeled clothes are organizing them, helping to get them settled.

She can’t believe any of this is real.

Is this her life now?

Kamala Khan — Inhuman, resistance fighter, superhero, Avenger?

She sees a glimpse of her masked face reflected in the glass pane.

Maybe.

Possibly. 

Absolutely!


End file.
